


Decisions

by DemiCas



Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, M/M, implied Yaoi, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 10:24:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8975926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemiCas/pseuds/DemiCas
Summary: Clow has decided to move to Japan with all his creations. Yue is less than happy with the decision.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: This will only make sense if you know who these characters are already and their (technical) relationship to each other.... ^_^ The notes below have kinda spoilers.  
> Disclaimer: All characters belong to CLAMP. All hail CLAMP!
> 
> Notes: This takes place in England, at least a couple hundred years ago (the whole time thing was very vague in the anime, so I feel I can squeeze it any way I like to make it fit), a while after the creation of the Guardians, but before Clow and Co. move to Japan. I considered writing the dialogue to fit the time but decided that would alienate the reader too much, so I settled instead for dialogue with _limited_ modern colloquialisms, except for one of Kero’s lines, for which I couldn’t find a good substitute. ^_^;; You will notice that although Kerberos’ speech is somewhat unrefined, it’s not Osakan-rough, since he hasn’t been to Osaka yet!
> 
> Oh, this is in the same timeline as “An Interlude Before the Fire, ” and actually makes a small reference to that story, though you don’t have to have read “Interlude” to follow “Decisions.” “Interlude” took place shortly after Yue’s creation, when he was still unsure of himself and before he and Clow were lovers (or whatever you can call their relationship!). This story takes place a number of years later; I think Yue’s personality is closer to what we all know and love...o_o
> 
> Some of these books are real; some of ’em ain’t. ^_^;

.

“Master this, Master that...You’d think he was God Almighty Himself riding an oxcart to Glory...”

Kerberos padded slowly into the library, where Yue was violently shoving books onto the mahogany shelves, his arms full of musty-smelling, leather-bound volumes with eldritch names like _Curses of the Lapland Wizards_ and _The Necronomicon_. “Hey, Yue – you sound like you’ve got a hair up your butt. Somebody give your primaries a twist?”

Yue hovered about ten feet up, his right hand holding a thirteenth-century Book of Shadows from Medici, and stared down at the Sun Guardian with an expression of mingled anger and guilt. He opened his mouth, then closed it again with a scowl and continued his work. “Go away, Kerberos,” he growled at last.

Kerberos lay down on the library rug and grinned up at his companion, flicking his golden wings to settle them. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Clow’s decision to move to Japan, would it?”

Yue slowly slid a dog-eared _Malleus Malificarum_ into its place on the shelf in front of him. He did not look at the Sun Guardian on the rug. “I don’t want to go,” he whispered. “I want to stay here. I like it here.”

Kerberos yawned, long canines flashing in the dim room. “It’s not so great here. It rains all the time, and they boil all the meat until it falls apart. Ugh. Now, Paris, that’d be the place for me! Think of the pastries!”

Yue ignored him. He flew up close to the ceiling and shelved an early Japanese copy of _The Platform Sutra_ , then settled back down on the hardwood floor. He did not turn to his fellow guardian but stood before the bookshelves, one hand idly caressing the spine of St. Augustine’s _Confessions_. “I – I was created here. I know this place.” His fingers clenched suddenly, cracking the Augustine’s binding. “He didn’t even _ask_!” he burst out. “He doesn’t care what we think – it’s just ‘follow the Master,’ ‘do what the Master says,’ and to hell with what we want. Well, I’m not a damn dog!”

Before Kerberos could answer, Yue snapped out his wings and fled through the wide double doors of the library, down the hall to his own room. It was dangerous to fly indoors, he knew. Even if he didn’t use his wings for anything more than stabilization, there was always the chance he could foul them on any one of the obstacles scattered throughout the Restoration mansion – a wall sconce, a picture frame, a suit of armor. But he didn’t care; he was angry, and when he was angry, he flew. He almost welcomed the chance to run into something, to hurt himself and feel the pain of being alive and in charge of his own body.

Despite his recklessness, however, Yue gained his room with no more mishap than a few broken knickknacks, swept from their places in the wind of his passing. He paused for a moment, panting, then slammed the door shut with such violence that a mirror fell off the wall and crashed to the floor, sending splinters of light across the walls and ceiling. He snarled at the pieces in impotent fury, then stalked to the window and pressed his hands against the chill panes. 

Yue felt as if someone were cutting his heart in half. He loved Clow, he _did_ , so much it was a physical ache. And Clow loved him, didn’t he? Hadn’t he said it, in words and more than words? So why did he do this? Why, just when Yue thought everything was safe and perfect, did Clow turn around and take everything away like this? He loved Clow – he hated him. He felt small and ashamed and alone. He just wanted to fly away as far as he could and never come back. 

Yue bent his fingers against the window, as if scratching to get out. _What am I to you, Clow?_ he thought wretchedly. _A child, a tool, a pretty bed-warmer? You gave me wings, but can I have freedom? What would happen if I just opened this window and flew out? Could I get away? Could you stop me?_ He put one hand on the catch and noticed that it was trembling. Angrily, he balled the hand into a fist and stood motionless, staring unseeing out into the grey evening garden. He considered driving his hand straight through the glass.

 _Do I love him because I love him, or because he wants me too? What decisions are mine?_ His eyes began to sting, and when he rubbed at them, his fingers came away wet. Tears? He stared at his hands in wonder and alarm. He had never wept before; he didn’t know he could.

There was a faint click, then a low creak as someone opened his door. Yue did not turn, but hung his head, caught again between love and pain. 

“Yue?” came a low, deep voice. _His_ voice.

“Clow,” he replied as steadily as he could, refusing the surrender of “Master.”

“Kerberos tells me you are unhappy.”

Yue felt bitterness rising in his throat, and his eyes were suddenly dry. “What does that matter? I can’t do anything about it.” 

Clow stepped further into the room, his feet crunching on the broken glass. “It matters to me, Yue.”

Yue whirled around to face his creator, his silver eyes burning. “Does it? That’s convenient. What I thought didn’t matter when you decided to pack us up for Japan with the rest of the luggage, but now that there’s nothing anyone can do, you can be generous and feel sorry for me. Well, no thank you – I don’t need that kind of sympathy.”

A look of pain crossed Clow’s face, but his voice remained low and mild. “That decision was not yours to make, Yue...” he began.

“Why not? I know you’re the great Clow Reed, that without you I wouldn’t exist, but that doesn’t make me a _toy_. I’m not just one of your books you can shelve until you need it next! I – I’m a _person_ , even if I’m not human.” He clenched his fists, his entire body rigid. “God damn it!” he cried. “You _made_ me this way!”

And it was if there had been an obstruction in his heart, a huge clot of tangled emotions – love, fear, awe, hate – and now it was gone and everything was falling out, so fast he couldn’t stand up under it. He dropped to his knees, weeping with rage and misery and uncertainty. Hot, alien tears spilled out over his fingers, spattering on his knees. He felt as if he were being pulled inside out.

“Yue!” Clow’s voice cut through the storm, and Yue felt a firm hand on his shoulder, urging him up, but he stayed stubbornly on his knees, curling himself up in the shelter of his pain. The hand paused, then an arm slid around his shoulders, enfolding him in warmth and strength. Yue could feel Clow’s concern wash over him, and, almost against his will, he leaned into that embrace, and eventually his weeping quieted into gasping, hiccupping sobs. 

“Yue,” Clow said quietly, his free hand brushing silver-white hair from the Moon Guardian’s face, “I am sorry. I didn’t know you felt this way.”

Yue swallowed hard. “Hah,” he managed.

He felt rather than saw Clow smile. “But it’s true. I don’t know _everything_. And I am not as free as you think. When I said that the decision to go to Japan was not yours, I meant it. But it was not mine, either.”

Yue rubbed his face with his hands, suddenly ashamed of his tears, of his weakness before his Master. “Whose was it then?” he asked sullenly.

“There are no coincidences, Yue, and the greater the power, the more desperate a hold destiny has on one. I am not going to Japan because I desire it, but because I must.”

Yue shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Clow replied. “It’s part of my fate – that’s all I can tell you. I didn’t think to consult you and Kerberos because there was nothing to discuss.” Clow paused and his voice grew gentler. “But I do regret now how I gave you the news, and that I did not listen to your concerns. I – I forget, sometimes, just how different you are from the Cards. You are all my creations, but you and Kerberos are my crowning achievements. You are far more than the sum of the spells that called you forth.”

Yue looked down at the floor between his knees. A small shard of broken mirror blinked up at him, too small to reflect even an eye. “But, you created us; you could do it any way you wanted. You could make us be anything you desired. So, Clow...why do I _hurt_?” He tried to blink back a final tear, but it escaped him, rolling warm and salt down his pale cheek.

Clow sighed and stroked Yue’s hair. “Do you remember, Yue, when you were first created – I told you that all great works of magic have an element of uncertainty?”

“Yes.”

“Your heart is one of those uncertainties.”

Yue looked up slowly. Clow’s face was close to his, and his dark eyes were full of affection, but also weariness and pain. Yue felt his heart empty and fill, empty and fill. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand and touched his Master’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Clow,” he said simply.

“So am I, Yue.” Clow shifted his weight to his heels and gently raised Yue to his feet, keeping his right arm around the Guardian’s shoulder all the while. Yue allowed himself to be led, suddenly tired of fighting, and when they were both standing, Clow folded Yue in his arms, laying his cheek against his creation’s silver-white hair. Yue stood still, breathing shallowly, as if any sudden sound or movement would awaken him from a dream. 

_What decisions are mine?_

“Clow, tell me...” he whispered.

“If I can, Yue. Anything.”

“Clow, if I love you, is it my own heart and not your creation?” 

Clow let out his breath quietly. “Yes, Yue.”

Yue considered. “Then I think I will love you, Master, with my real self.” He raised his eyes to meet Clow’s, and his expression was firm. “But it’s _my_ heart, Clow. I want – I want you to respect that. I want you to understand that. I’m not a toy or a dog or a puppet. I’m a _person_.” There was only one question left to answer. “Can you love me like that?” he asked quietly, his voice small but steady.

Clow smiled. “I will try. I am old and arrogant and set in my ways, but I will try. Is that enough for Yue?”

Yue smiled a little in return. “Yes, Clow.” And as he turned his face up, his expression open and expectant, Clow bent his own head down. His mouth, as warm as Yue remembered, brushed the Moon Guardian’s cheek, then settled on his lips, pressing gently, moving in tiny feathered circles. Yue felt his heart expand with love and desire. _My heart, my own heart._ Yue sighed into Clow’s mouth and relaxed his whole body against his Master’s. 

It was surrender, but he _chose_ it.


End file.
